


savoy truffle

by kishiberohan



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Kissing, M/M, cuddling kind of, pretty tame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-05-22 00:34:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6064084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kishiberohan/pseuds/kishiberohan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>takes place circa 1977. ocelot and kaz share a vaguely tender moment, scientists are shocked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	savoy truffle

**Author's Note:**

> i haven't completed a fanfiction in two years. thankfully, i love me some ocelhira. forgive me for any stiffness or errors, i'm quite rusty ;;
> 
> title from a beatles song with little to no contextual relevance because for some reason i was compelled to listen to the white album today despite my distaste for the 60s bug men
> 
> feedback greatly appreciated!
> 
>  
> 
> EDIT: went back and changed the wordin on some stuff :)~

“Since when do you smoke?”

 

He was on the edge of the bed, one leg dangling off of it, head against the backboard and eyes focused on the smoke slowly floating up to the ceiling as if it were the most fascinating process in the world. Another puff and those eyes were on Kaz.

 

He shivered a bit.

 

Those lips curved into a small smile, the cigarette pressing into the corner of Ocelot’s mouth. “Always do afterwards.” A barely audible huff of laughter. “This is just the first time you’re awake to see.”

 

Kaz said nothing and sunk back into his pillow, his head turned on its side to observe the sight before him. The moon was at such an angle at the moment where it appeared that Ocelot was glowing, his hip bones especially prominent. If Kaz wasn’t exhausted he’d have already pounced.

 

Ocelot was beautiful. He always thought so, but it was moments like this that Kaz really appreciated it. His body curved in a way that couldn’t be described as anything short of elegant, his tall stature only adding to its appeal. It felt like he was sleeping around with some supermodel and not a dangerously treacherous Russian spy. Speaking of which, he still held a vague suspicion that Ocelot was merely testing his limits with him, pulling him along on a string leading to nowhere, but it was to the point where he didn’t really care anymore to dwell on it for extended periods of time.

 

The man in question was still looking at Kaz, the half-finished cigarette now smoking in the ashtray. He appeared to be studying him, as he always did, as if he were some particularly interesting piece of intel, or a particularly perplexing crossword puzzle. Kaz would be lying if he said it wasn’t a little unnerving, but, again, he was quite apathetic. He’d grown accustomed to Ocelot’s.. mannerisms, accustomed to the fact that he hadn’t yet been visibly fucked over by him yet, at least not in the bad way.

 

The good way happened quite often, and for that he was grateful.

 

His eyes hadn’t been closed for a minute before he felt himself slipping into unconsciousness, his mouth hanging open a bit as it always did when it slept. He felt a weight drop beside him, realizing sleepily that it was Ocelot’s.

 

“Miller.”

 

One eye opened upon hearing his name. He lazily moved its gaze to Ocelot, going half-lidded again almost immediately afterward.

 

Ocelot’s hand rested on Kaz’s hip underneath the blanket. He had an odd look on his face. “You know, you whistle in your sleep.”

 

“Yeah?” His voice sounded a bit thick, as if it was attempting to trudge through molasses. Such is the case when a person is both tired and still coming down from a sex-induced high..

 

“Yes,” Ocelot spoke into his ear, his hand moving to stroke Kaz’s hip.

 

Kaz felt a bit like a mouse that was about to get eaten, but he just shrugged and stretched his neck a bit to kiss him sloppily, tasting the nicotine on his breath as they locked themselves together. It was rather short and sweet, which was a bit odd, considering it was, well, Ocelot, but he appreciated it. They pulled apart, a string of drool (probably his own) dripping from Ocelot’s mouth. He felt considerably more awake now.

 

“Since when do you make pillow talk?” He reached over and grabbed Ocelot by the hip bones that had been calling to him all night. Success. Ocelot made a gasp of surprise as he was pulled towards the other man, his nails digging into Kaz’s sides.

 

“Since you stopped passing out immediately after you finish,” Ocelot hissed. Kaz blinked, then smirked. “Is someone upset?”

 

Ocelot’s lips were drawn in a tight line. Was he.. blushing? Kaz realized with a start that he was. He squinted suspiciously and leaned down closer to Ocelot, whose eyes refused to meet his own. A snort. “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”

 

“Wish one’d get yours,” was the snap he got in reply before he was abruptly flipped on his back, Ocelot straddling him and pinning him by his wrists above his head. He rolled his eyes. The next few minutes’ events were predictable, as things always went in roughly the same pattern whenever Ocelot was fed up with him; Ocelot would start bitching at him for grabbing him so suddenly, he’d nod and pretend to listen, Ocelot would make that little huffy noise he always did and move to the farthest edge of the bed to sleep, then he’d wake up in the morning and find the man’s limbs splayed all over him like some kind of damn octopus. The exact situation had never quite happened before in this setting, but cars and bedrooms were the same, right? For a spy, he was quite predictable.

 

Or so Kaz liked to think. Instead, Ocelot merely hummed and bent down, locking his and Kaz’s mouths together again. Their teeth knocked together as they pulled on each other's lips, tongues slipping in and out of their mouths. If he hadn’t had known better, he’d think Ocelot was trying to eat him.

 

Kaz found himself moaning slightly into the kiss, as well as wishing his hands were free so he could tug him closer. He wanted to smash their faces together so hard that their noses broke, but he had to make do with chewing the shit out of Ocelot’s lower lip. The other man seemed to thoroughly enjoy this, practically purring into Kaz’s mouth as his tongue explored it.

 

It was with great reluctance that they pulled apart, both panting heavily and pressing their foreheads together. The cat did manage to get his tongue after all. Ocelot laughed, soft and breathless.

 

He suddenly felt as if there was no string.

 

“I think the whistle-snoring’s cute,” he breathed, that strange expression on his face again. “Hear it sometimes in my dreams.” He relinquished his grip on Kaz’s wrists and all but collapsed on top of him, burying his face in his neck. Kaz sighed and reached over with his newly-freed hand to rest in Ocelot’s hair, surprised when he got no complaints upon doing so. Maybe he was too tired out.

 

He felt Ocelot exhale deeply onto  his neck, lips moving against it as he continued to speak.

 

“Good night.”

 

Hm. So this was what an ocelot was like in the afterglow.

 

Perhaps he’d stay awake more often.


End file.
